The Legion Inquisition
by OboeNotClarinet
Summary: A one-shot inspired by a stupid prompt from my brother. He wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition. Neither was the Consul.


The Consul was not sure exactly what he was getting himself into.

He had always heard of the humans - they made up a considerable portion of the Guardians, after all. But this was Old Earth, before the Golden Age; the Light had not yet touched the third planet from the sun.

Looking back up at the disappearing rift above him, the Consul once again cursed whatever had propelled him and his captive across the time-space continuum. Ghaul would have his head.

"Perhaps if you hadn't insisted on testing weapons indoors," the Speaker began, "you wouldn't have ripped open the fabric of reality."

The Consul glared at the Guardians' leader. "Silence! I did precisely what I meant to," he snarled.

The Speaker merely shrugged, scanning the area they had landed in. It was Earth, of course… London, in the 1970s. London in the 1970s… now what was important about that? Roughly, the Consul seized the Speaker's shoulder, dragging him into an abandoned warehouse.

"I am not," the Cabal growled, "going to appear on some human's information feed." The Consul tossed the Speaker into a pile of boxes, crossing his arms and sitting on an old generator.

The Speaker sat up stiffly, brushing dust and splinters off of his robes, and quietly consulting his Ghost. London in the 1970s… ah, that was it.

The age of Monty Python.

"Ghaul must have learned his hospitality from you," the Speaker said, an idea forming in his mind.

The Consul scowled, ugly features twisting. "I thought I told you to be quiet."

"I'm the Speaker. I can't help it."

"Enough! Ghaul will complete the interrogation when we return."

"I am aware of this. I was expecting to be questioned, but… well, I wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition."

The Consul looked at his captive suspiciously. "The Spanish Inquisition?"

"Yes." The Speaker knew another rift would not open soon - he might as well instill what little fear he could. "A fearsome era in human history, the Spanish Inquisition was a time of murder and torture in the most gruesome ways. Three Cardinals traversed Europe, condemning those who did not conform to their faith. They always arrived when their victims least expected it."

"Humph," the Consul grunted. "Only three? They sound weak to me."

The Speaker shook his head. "The Cardinals were feared by all, a bloody and truly unstoppable force. The world was bathed in darkness before Darkness came."

The Consul merely scoffed.

"Still not convinced?"

"Hardly."

"Then imagine this - the strongest of any human whimpering for their life like a scared child, stretched to the point of dislocation, dying slowly and begging their captors for mercy with no weapon in hand," the Speaker intoned, leaning forward. "A very dishonorable death."

He had the Consul's attention now. The Cabal swallowed a foreign lump of concern. "Dishonorable, you say?"

"Incredibly. The worst you can imagine. That is the Spanish Inquisition."

The Consul attempted to mask the inklings of fear invading his face. "But they are long dead, these Cardinals?"

"On the contrary. The three Cardinals lived on, taking up residence in London during the 1970s anno Domini."

"But - impossible! That is the decade we have landed in!" the Consul sputtered. He inwardly hoped the Speaker was lying. A dishonorable death… unthinkable!

"I'm afraid so," the Speaker sighed. "And it is possible we are already doomed."

"How?!"

"They come when summoned, when least expected, after the victim unwittingly speaks the incantation."

"Incantation? What incantation? Spit it out, Guardian!"

"The incantation is… 'I wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition.'"

The Consul froze. The Speaker had said those exact words mere moments ago.

Suddenly, the door burst open as three men in bloodred robes kicked it down.

"NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!"

The Consul shot to his feet as a rift opened behind him, shooting wildly at the Cardinals. The Speaker rose and strode across the room, entering the rift as the Consul staggered backwards after him.

The rift closed, leaving three men in silly red costumes confused. Finally, the one with the biggest hat spoke.

"Confound it, Cardinals, it happened again!"


End file.
